Forever Too Long
by Ch0sen0ne
Summary: Post finale AU. Tate vowed to wait for Violet forever. How long would it really take? What kind of person could love a monster?
1. Tentative Beginnings

A/N: According to /2011/10/31/the-real-american-horror-story-house-in-l-a/, the actual square footage of the murder house lot is 30,000. To me that seems like way too much freedom for the 25 ghosts we know to be trapped on the grounds, and a lot more than we ever saw pictured in the show, so I'm whittling it down to a Seattle sized 7,000. I also chose the second name of three Vivien threw out for the baby that only drew one breath in "Afterbirth" because I liked it the best.

The look that Violet gives at 45:52 during "Afterbirth," makes it obvious that she knows Tate is just outside the living room, she looks bothered and then complacent, like she is thinking about things. She doesn't look mad. I may be pathetic for going off of one single second of the finale, but forever is an awfully long time to hold a grudge, so I am going with the optimist view here. Feel free to combat my rationale or provide your own spin in reviews.

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><p>Violet stared at the wrought iron gate, as though she could will it to the opposite side of the street. Five years ago she was alive. She could stroll down the street, steal her father's contraband cigarettes, even attending school was preferable to being trapped inside the 7,000 square feet that made up the lot of the Murder House. Now, postmortem, all she could do was gaze out at the world she would only be able to venture out into once a year till the end of time. "I can't believe I'm doomed to an eternity of being a teenager," she muttered under her breath.<p>

"Doomed is a pretty strong word." Violet's mother Vivien said.

"I know." Violet was quick to amend her comment. "I've just been so bored."

"You know what they say-"

"Only the boring get bored. I know, I know." Violet cut in, having heard the very same cliché from her mother dozens of times a week in the years before their deaths. "I feel boring. I love you and Dad and Jonah, but it just feels like every day is exactly the same. I don't have friends, I don't leave the house, I'm going a little nuts. Totally open to suggestions at this point." Viven smiled at her daughter.

"I can always use help with Jonah." Violet groaned as Vivien laughed. "Alright, alright, I get it. It isn't fun to change newborn diapers on an unending rotation. I guess I'm tapped out of ideas, too, honey. Did you talk to Elizabeth or Nora? I bet they have some ideas about how to keep busy."

"Next you'll be asking me to clean with Moira." Violet sighed.

"Now that isn't a bad idea."

"Goodbye!" Violet jumped off the porch and strolled into the yard.

"Fucking house." She glared up at it, only to catch a glimpse of Tate watching her from her dad's office.

As soon as she looked back up, he was gone. He'd been watching her since the incident with the family that moved in last- the Morenos. Violet shivered inwardly as she remembered distracting Tate so Gabe could escape with his parents. If only someone had done the same for her! Violet's trek ended at the edge of the backyard, past her mother's lines strung for clean sheets. If only things were different. She was torn between longing to talk to and touch the troubled boy and feeling utter disdain for everything he represented. Hadn't he been just as disgusting and full of shit as her father?

Violet drew her legs up into a criss cross, trying not to think of all the tim'es she and Tate had occupied this space together. At times she would contemplate her life if she had not managed to take her own life. Would she be in college out of state? She'd probably have graduated and have a job by now, something in history or art. Maybe geology, even archaeology? She'd always relished the past and demanded concrete evidence... Now everything seemed skewed and in stasis... Would she ever feel like an adult?

"Miss Violet?" Moira seemed to appear from between the sheets her mother still insisted on air drying.

Violet nodded, acknowledging the older woman. "Your mother is very worried about you." Violet's eyebrow raise was her only response.

"She is. Ms. Harm- Vivien went down to speak with Tate a while ago." Violet almost fell off of her concrete perch.

"What?"

Moira nodded, affirming her earlier comment. "She is a very forgiving woman. And she is worried you aren't happy. Are you happy?" The older housekeeper tacked the question on, almost as an afterthought.

"No." Violet answered before she had time to think.

Moira's sharp and reprimanding glance made her backtrack. "I mean, I know I am a lot better off than a lot of the spirits here, I just..." Moira gave a small smirk / smile.

"I think I understand. He seems to feel the same- I know the young Mr. Langdon has done awful things; many I've had to clean up after, but I do think he has changed." after a pause, "I've probably overstepped my bounds, Violet."

Violet shook her head fervently. "No. I need some outside opinions at this point. I'm completely cashed out of my own theories and ideas right now. I don't know what to think." she offered lamely.


	2. The Talk

CHAPTER 2

Without sleep, school, and eating, days drug on forever. Nights were long, dark expanses of sitting around in the dark, all thoughts of sleep and rest eluding her. She wandered the halls, lost in memories of her life before. Life before death- life in Boston, a life of not-quite-fitting in with her peers, books and tests, parental discord. She got lost in memories of life in the House- avoiding her parents and learning more about the place's dark past. Worse still were the memories of Tate; the time they spent exploring, talking, laughing and whiling away the hours. Violet shifted in between extreme boredom and a life of monotony to a life of suppression and losing herself in the day to day in a vain effort to distract herself from her past.

Viven watched her daughter as she rocked tiny baby Jonah. She felt happy. She'd been lucky enough to get her entire family back in one piece, and she wasn't about to discount how much they'd suffered and been through to get to this point. This hadn't eased her worries about Violet, though. The teenager seemed so happy at first, but grew to be more sullen and withdrawn, just as she had been before her death years ago. Vivien had a lot of theories as to why this was, but the one that seemed to keep bouncing around in her mind was Tate. Tate, the sick and possibly sociopath killer and her own rapist, indirectly responsible for Viven's own death. It gave her a shiver to think about her daughter entwined with someone who was so dark for eternity.

Vivien tried to snap out of this negative downward spiral. Although, she did rationalize, her own partner for eternity wasn't a paragon of virtue by any means. She'd been able to forgive his many trespasses, hadn't she? Gently placing Jonah down in his bassinet, Viven decided she must be the catalyst in Violet's life. The young teen had spent so much time alone and without much guidance, the least she could do was try to understand where Violet had been before she chose to end her own life.

Viven slowly descended the stairs into the basement. Even dead, she couldn't shake the feeling of doubt and foreboding the basement gave her. The lights flickered, as though to reinforce her doubt. "Tate?" she asked quietly, knowing he must be here.

Only quiet called back to her. "Tate, I need to talk to you." a pause. "It's about Violet."

The young man rounded the corner. He didn't meet her eyes. "Is she okay?"

Vivien felt nervous; torn between righteous indignation and heartfelt sympathy for this boy who was so obviously alone. "I think that depends on how you would define okay, Tate. She was broken. By you." Viven glared at him pointedly.

Tate's face crumpled, and his eyes glazed with tears. "I know that. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I hurt her." His dark eyes finally met her own. "I'm sorry for what I've done to you and your family. I used to think that the people who moved here, moved into my house were expendable, but Violet made me realize that the people here were just like her." He seemed to consider this for a moment.

"Or at least, people worthy of consideration. I kept removing myself from society, but after I met her and started to think about people as more like Violet, more like myself-" Tate's voice caught in his throat like a sob.

"Stop. Please." Vivien said forcefully, unwilling to hear a darkened soul's confession. "I can't be your confessional. I came here for one reason, and that was to tell you exactly what I think of you so that my daughter can feel free to make her own choices." Tate's brows knit together.

He looked like any other teenager about to succumb to his girlfriend's mother- worried, nervous, and anxious to please. "I don't know when your life went wrong. I can't think of one event, no matter how terrible that excuses what you did to the people in your life, in this house, to me. It is utterly unforgivable." She was interrupted by a choked sob.

"I can't live like that. Or, not live-" she looked thoughtful. "I am not really used to this being dead thing, after all this time. What I want you to know is that I'm letting that all go, right now, today. I am not ready to be friendly with you, or even to see you hanging around Violet, but I am not going to be one of those negative things I imagine must be weighing on you every day for the rest of- I don't know, time, I guess. I'm going to try to forgive you, Tate, and more than that, I want to forget." Viven stared at the boy, who had a very startled look in his tear-filled eyes.

"I can't promise you anything. Violet is her own person and she's remarkably mature about some things, but after how much betrayal she's had to deal with, I just can't say what she'll do. Don't you dare mess this up- I won't advise her or put in a good word for you. Don't push her, don't expect too much too soon. Good luck, Tate." Viven turned to go back up the stairs, but looked back over her shoulder after a moment of hesitation.

"You deserve some kind of peace, too. I hope you know that." Tate just stared at her, but as she reached the top of the stairs, she heard him sag to the floor, crying.


	3. And So We Meet At Last

CHAPTER 3

Violet stared at her mother, willing a confession. She followed her around for the next few days, trying to sense if her behavior was different. Unfortunately, this didn't reward her with any kind of evidence. The older woman seemed to follow all her same routines- tea with Moira in the mornings, pilates in her music room while Jonah napped... If she wanted answers, she was going to have to approach her mother. Violet didn't want to think about approaching the other half of the mysterious pow wow. She'd stopped catching glimpses of Tate around the house. Violet hoped that Moira's admission and the recent disappearance of her stalker weren't linked, but she didn't believe in coincidence.

Finally, when she could take no more, "What happened with Tate?" her voice sounded shrill and demanding, even to her own ears.

Vivien eyed Violet, trying to decide how to play the conversation she had with the troubled young man. "I am trying to be helpful, Violet. I hate the thought of any of the ghosts trapped here being unhappy forever. That is a huge part of the problem here- the hate, the anger, the negativity. I sometimes think if we could help to dispel that, the way we help prevent anyone else from being hurt here, maybe things would be different."

"Are you saying you think there is a way we can pass on, or something like that?" Violet wasn't sure how she felt about that. Being around on Earth almost seemed preferable to absolute unknown, even if it was within the grounds of Murder House and with a couple dozen other residents.

Vivien signed. "I don't know, honey. At the very least I'd like to be part of trying to help these people resolve some of the issues they are replaying. Tate is no exception. I don't want to walk around every day feeling like I have to carry the weight of the terrible things that happened to me, to our family, in this house. I'm going to forgive him, and then I'm going to keep living my un-life." She smiled, wrinkling her nose. "That sounds so strange."

"Its been like 5 years, Mom. You'll figure out some lingo that doesn't make you feel weird eventually." There was a long pause. "What does this mean?"

Viven shrugged. "I don't know, Violet. I'm not trying to influence your decisions in one way or another."

Violet viewed her skeptically. "Moira told me you were worried about me. Is that true?"

"Of course I am. You're cooped up in this house with no one your own age to talk to, a lot of heavy things on your mind... I think I am pardoned a little motherly worry. Your dad has plenty of patients to diagnose and discuss, we have a lot of things we're working out, but you don't really have a niche here. I told Tate this, and so I should level with you, too." she met her daughter's eyes. "I am not telling you what to do, honey. If you want to be mad forever and never see him again, that is fine with me. I understand that. God knows I've been there with your dad and my own parents before. I can't live like that. I trust you to make the right decision for you, sweetheart. I love you, no matter what."

Violet's face crumpled. "I'm so lost, Mom. I hate that I want to forgive him. I hate feeling vulnerable. How do I know what he's going to do next?"

Vivien laughed aloud until she saw Violet's face. "Oh, I'm sorry Violet." her expression sobered. "Its just that no one knows what another person is going to do. I've been with your father for 17 years- well, I guess 22 now, and I still am surprised by him. There are no guarantees."

"I think- I need to be alone for a little while. Thank you, Mom. I don't think I've ever known someone as selfless as you." Violet hugged her mother, clinging tightly for just a moment, relishing in the feeling of being little and loved unconditionally as her mother exited her domain.

The thought of unconditional love made her stomach flop a bit. Tate loved her that way, she was sure of it. Could she say the same? Violet flopped down on her bed, despondent. It was like there was no winning. If she talked to Tate and reconciled, she'd feel weak and pathetic for giving in to her emotions. If she ignored Tate, she'd feel lonely and awful for putting him through the only thing she wasn't sure he could endure. Either way, with the emotional tumult she was feeling she quickly called out to him before she could stop herself. "Tate?" at first her voice was weak- it wavered. "Tate!" she said with more authority.

Silence followed. 'Fine. Asshole wants to meet me on his turf, I can do that.' Violet squared her shoulders and tromped out of her room, setting her sights on the basement. That was where Tate always wanted to meet before she knew he was dead, before she knew she was dead. It was surely where she'd find him now.

Even dead the basement contained horrors she wasn't sure she wanted to face. The light seemed strange here, and for whatever reason it seemed to house the most deadly and angry of the spirits. "Tate." Violet's voice sounded certain and steady, and for that she was grateful. At least one part of her seemed sure of itself.

Violet gasped as Tate rounded the corner of the smaller room, nearly bowling her over. "What?" he hissed, "You shouldn't be down here."

Violet wasn't sure what she wanted to say, now faced with the young man with such an innocence in his eyes. She stared at him, trying to force herself to speak, or do something. When had she turned into such a coward? Tate's face crumpled. "I can't take this. You were right to punish me, but its easier if I don't see you. I'd tell you that I'm sorry, but you've heard enough of that from me. I'm just going to go. Don't come back down here, Violet."

This time Violet was the one who's voice cracked. "That's bullshit, Tate. Don't you dare walk away from me."


	4. Wild Goose Chase

A/N: Rating change! I had to up it for serveral reasons, among them the language, themes, and HOORAY! I am going to include a lemon. I'm keeping it vague now, because I can't guarantee when or how good it is going to be. Let's just hope a lot of years of reading fabulous sex scenes rubs off on me.

I'm still rewatching the episodes like a hermit, just as I imagine all of you are. I still am not getting the "clues" that RM has supposedly put in. I don't get any clues as to Ben's death, I don't see any clues as to the next season's location. Where do you guys think these come in? Is RM jerking us around?

Does anyone else think it is weird how Vivien was demanding Marcy buy flowers, bake cookies, and lie about happy inhabitants to the house at the beginning of episode 3 only to demand Ben and the realtor be completely upfront and honest about the house's past?

Why does Moira make so much trouble for Ben and Vivien when she later claims that she is among the house's few inhabitants who aren't out for vengence. Does this seem like a hypocritcal statement, or is it just me?

Chapter 4

"What do you want from me?" Tate's voice was on edge, his hands buried in his hair.

Violet cringed, uncomfortable with seeing this shattered side of him. She shifted, crossing her arms and tucking her hands into the ends of her cardigan, resisting rolling her eyes. "I know you talked to my mom. What the hell?" Tate's shoulders drew up.

He'd never looked more vulnerable. Violet longed for the escape and lack of feeling she could refuge in inside her old room. "I didn't try to talk to her, I swear. She came to me." Now the eyeroll was unable to be contained.

"I know that, Tate. I just want to know what she said." Violet thought she knew what her mother had said to Tate, but just as important was Tate's interpretation of what Viven had said.

She waited for his side of the conversation. As usual, things were not exactly forthcoming. "I- shouldn't you be asking your mom? I don't know, Violet. She pretty much said she wanted me to stay away from both of you. I've been doing that! I don't know what else your family wants me to do. I'll do anything you ask me to." He was twitching and obviously uncomfortable.

Violet was not about to let him snake his way out of this. "So she told you not to have any contact with me? Than why the hell are we talking right now? You're already disregarding the agreement?" Her eyes were hard, searching his dark ones.

Tate met her gaze, just for a moment. He looked over at the door to the backyard. "No. Yes- I... I'm not sure. She said she'd forgiven me, or something. I couldn't hear her over everything else. I told her I was sorry for everything-"

"You're always sorry. What else?" Violet didn't exactly mean to be cruel, but if she didn't stop Tate's pity party, she wasn't sure she could cut through the dead wood into the actual interaction between Tate and her mother.

Tate's brow furrowed. He rubbed the sleeve of his sweater over his face, clearing his tears. "Why don't you ask her, Violet? She's the more lucid of the two of us."

Violet huffed. "Of course she is, Tate. And just like you, she danced around the issues. I want to know what really happened. Rapist and victim just get together and decide to come to a mutal understanding? I see Murder House must be working its special dark magic again. Oh, wait. That'd be the opposite of what usually happens, right?"

Tate covered his face with his hands. "Just go, Violet."

Violet laughed." Oh no, you fucking bastard. You don't get off that easily." Tate lowered his hands, balling them at his sides. Violet gasped, raising her hands in a mock gesture of truce. "Oh, Lord have mercy! Did I rile you up, Tate? Are you going to hurt me now, like you did to so many others who dared piss you off? Or like most of your countless victims, did I just manage to walk into your line of sight on the wrong day of the week?"

Tate's fists slammed into the sides of his skull. His eyes were enraged when they met her own. "I never hurt you on purpose, Violet. You know that!"

"Yeah, I guess your definitions are different than mine. All I remember is how you told me if you love someone you should never hurt them. Do you remember that, Tate?"

His face softened. Tate's hands balled up and crossed, hidden under his arms. "Of course I do."

Violet nodded. "Okay. Well, then spill what happened, down to the last detail. Tell me everything." Tate slumped, sitting agaist the wall between the door to the backyard and the stairway.

"Alright. But you aren't going to like it."

Violet had become excellent at finding patterns in the lumps under the paint of her ceiling. She sometimes thought of the room as her own, but the thought was fleeting. It had long been the room of others- of Tate; of all the new occupants, however short. Without other distractions, she fancied she could see things like constellations under there. As if on cue, her mother knocked softly. Violet knew it was Viven because Ben rarely took the consideration of privacy into account. He often barged in, figuring if his teenager daughter were changing or in another state of undress she'd be in the hallway bathroom. "Vi? Can I come in?"

Violet rolled her eyes while her mother was unable to see. "Yes, Mom. You can even come in without opening the door, if you so choose."

Viven came in smiling, though the door like always. "What can I say? I'm a traditionalist." Violet humored her with a half smile.

"What's going on in here? What are you going to do today?" Violet smiled brightly.

"Well, I was thinking I'd spend most of the morning sprawled over my bed staring at the ceiling, followed by a rousing game of chess with that idiot Travis, who has no concept of strategy or even a basic concept of the game, followed by cooking lessons with Loraine. I do hope you approve, Mother." Violet almost caved after the last suggestion left her lips- it was pretty base, but Vivien had really been getting on her daughter's nerves lately, with the stealth conversation with Tate and constantly demanding to know an itenerary.

Vivien's mouth drew into a line. "What's going on, Violet?"

Violet sat up. "I talked to Tate."

Viven couldn't stop her brows from furrowing together. "Okay."

Violet looked incredulous. "You aren't going to ask me what happened?"

Vivien moved over to the edge of the bed, perching there. "No. Not unless you want to talk about it."

Violet thought about the possibilities stemming from reliving her conversation with Tate earlier. "Well, I guess all I'll say is that I'm not ready. I feel like I'm being pulled apart- knowing what he's done has changed everything. I-" she bit her lip nervously, afraid Tate was lurking as usual, but finished softly, "still love him."

Vivien nodded slowly. "Maybe you should have a talk with your dad." Violet eyed her mother sideways.

"Why?" She was highly suspicious of her mother's reasoning.

Why would her dad have any insight into her problem? He'd better not still be- "He's been seeing Tate." Violet felt like she was choking.

"Since when?" How could it be possible for her parents to be sneaking around behind her back so much?

Who did they think they were, some kind of master puppeteers, pulling strings and jerking she and Tate around? Their realization about her death had made them extra intrusive, she supposed, but inwardly Violet bristled at the idea of her mother and father discussing her and God forbid trying to set her up with Tate.

"A while now. Since he joined us, most likely. I didn't know anything about it until recently, when I talked to your father about Tate."

Violet snorted. "That's it. That's all the information we have, huh? What could they possibly be talking about?" Angry, Violet supposed she'd have to go to the source.

Maybe after she questioned everyone in this damn house she'd have some answers, and even be able to make a decision that was already turning out to be far more twisted and layered than she'd first imagined.


	5. Harsh Reality

A/N: Trying to come up with a reasonable sounding diagnosis for Tate is very hard. I originally was leaning toward psycopath, which you can read more about here: .?id=what-psychopath-means&page=2. I've since abandoned that idea, however, after research. He showed signes of psychosis; which rarely occurs with psycopathy, so I settled on schizophrenic with violent tendencies. I believe he truly was motivated by love for Violet and had feelings of tenderness toward Norah and perhaps Addie. He also seemed to feel sympathy toward Lorraine and her daughters. Thusly, psycopath and sociopath just don't fit. I guess you can explain away all of the redeeming qualities I believe he demonstrated in the series as a ruse, but I am erring on the side of optomisim here.

Chapter 5

Violet found her dad in his study. He was keeping pretty busy shrinking the ghosts trapped in the Murder House, who ranged from depressed to absolutely insane. Mostly she supported this practice. She understood that a person, especially one suspended in time, needed some sort of outlet or hobby, a way to keep busy. Ben's hobby was probably the best of any that the other ghosts had- there seemed no short supply of loony, lonely, troubled spirits here. Violet tended to draw the line, however, when it came to secretly treating Tate. She was shocked she'd not grown privvy to this going-on; Violet and her father had been getting along much better in the last few years. She'd even begun to trust him enough to skim over some of her own issues. 'So much for that.' Violet thought as she collapsed into the comfy armchair across from her father.

"Hey, Vi. How's it going?" Ben looked up from his notes.

Violet lifted an eyebrow. "Still taking extensive patient notes, huh?" Ben laughed sheepishly.

"I can't seem to stop. It does help me keep everyone straight around here. Sometimes all of the issues just" he waved his hands together.

"Kind of meld together, I guess. Your mom told me about how bored you've been. Has it gotten so desperate you've resorted to hanging out with your dad?" Ben's smile was so bright.

"Of course not. Let's hope it never comes to that." Violet cringed.

Part of the pain of being an eternal teenager were the string of cutting remarks she couldn't seem to hold in. Ben just laughed. "I'm here about Tate. I know you've been seeing him. Why?"

Ben sighed and leaned against the back of his armchair, rubbing his face in his hands. "I am not sure, Vi. After I passed, he begged me to keep treating him. I was really angry and disillusioned- I laughed in his face. Underneath it all I just was tired of life. When I decided to treat some of the people here I decided I didn't want to treat Tate. I wanted to let him talk, and talk back to him. No patient / therapist garbage, just the two of us mostly doing things that needed to be done around the house or nothing at all... I used to be a lot like Tate." Violet couldn't hide the horror on her face.

Ben laughed. "I just didn't have a lot of prospects as a high schooler, that's all I'm saying. I was getting into trouble, doing drugs, just feeling like I wasn't ever going to do anything with my life." Violet drew her legs up to sit criss-crossed in the chair.

She leaned forward, interested. "Okay, so you're saying Tate might have made something of his life?"

Ben looked worried, leaning forward again. "No, Violet. I'm not saying that. Tate is pretty resistent to treatment, is a chronic liar, and without medication-"

Violet narrowed her eyes. "I get it. He'll always be a monster. I guess lucky for you someone or something saved you from that path. Too bad Tate wasn't so lucky."

Ben looked defeated as he watched Violet stalk off.

"I take it you were evesdropping during that whole exchange?" Violet exhaled, smoke making her look and feel like a fire-breathing dragon.

Tate materialized against the side of the brick pillar where she'd chosen to perch. "I deserve to hear what you are all saying about me."

"Ah, a rare self-defense from our resident violent schizophrenic." Violet snubbed out the cigarette she held.

Tate's face crumpled. "That's just your father's diagnosis. I've had a different one or different combinations from every shrink I've been forced to come into contact with."

Violet raised an eyebrow. She couldn't keep the interest out of her voice. "Like what?"

"Does it matter? Would it change the way you see me?" Tate didn't take his eyes away from her.

Violet stared back at him. Would it? Could she use any diagnosis as a blinder to prevent her from seeing the faces of those high schoolers? Her own mother's assault? The multitude of ghosts she'd bump into that were there as a direct consequence of Tate's actions? "No." she said quietly. "I guess not."

Violet looked away for only a moment, and when she turned back to say something else, he was gone. "Fuck."

"As dramatic and entertaining as the two of you angsty teens are, just give it a rest. Can I give you some advice?" The thin redhead leaned against the brick wall, just past kicking range from Violet's outstreched legs.

"No." Violet didn't move, though.

She'd come to accept the fact that she was going to be forced to share what every day felt like a smaller space with ghosts she neither liked nor respected. "I'm giving it to you anyway. Get over it. Your mom and Ben are puttering around like two idiots with a new lease on life. It won't last. While they've got their sights on each other instead of you, you might as well make the most of time with your deeply troubled boytoy."

"Is that what you tell yourself? That my mom and dad are going to get tired of being happy so you can jump back into the fray?" Violet was just at digging into Hayden as the physically older woman was with her.

Hayden laughed. "We'll see who's right. We've got nothing but time, right?"

Violet glared at her as she sauntered off, leaving yet another perspective swirling around Violet's already overcrowded brain.


	6. Conflict

A/N: I am so sorry for the long absence, my friends. After season 2 began I lost interest in AHS for a while, despite lurking to read a few Violate fics here and there. After hearing about the Evan/Taissa reunion, I came back to AHS. My excitement for Coven has waned, but my fervor for this story has picked up. I've got a really solid outline for the story now, and hope that the parts are cohesive. This is unbetaed, so please let me know if you spot errors or inconsistencies.

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><p>Conflict, Chapter 6<p>

Violet could use sleep, a cigarette- something to break up the constant swirling of thoughts and comments from what seemed like every other ghost in the house when it came to her personal life.

Patrick and Chad, a.k.a her mother's favorite babysitters were taking turns "oohing" and "aahing" over Jonah while they offered ideas to keep Tate's mind off of killing. None of them were below an R rating.

Moira snorted in disgust as she cleaned up tea service in the kitchen when Violet mentioned their offer. "That boy needs something, but I don't think it's a release those deviants suggest."

"What would you suggest, then?" Violet offered almost as a reflex.

"I spent my entire life being used by the men in my life. I'm not inclined in any way or another. Wickedness should be punished, not rewarded."

"Like how you were?" Violet didn't even blink when Moira's response was to allow her gaping head wound exposure.

"The shock wears off after the first 100 times or so. Thanks for the advice, though." Violent wandered off, choosing to perch on the low brick wall on the side of the house that was once her respite with Tate.

She glanced over to the house next door, the one Constance currently resided in with her half brother and son of her ex-boyfriend. "Yuck." she thought lamely, idly wondering if Constance would be around to bum a smoke from.

Almost as if on cue, the well coiffured older woman appeared in a window. Violet stared back as the curtain was drawn shut. Momentarily the front door of the house slammed, and sure enough, the blonde devil meandered down the walk and into the gates of the murder house.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Violet asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Constance shook a smoke from her pack and offered one to Violet, who moved to accept. Quicker than the offer, Constance withdrew her white and gold box. "Where's my boy? Have you two kissed and made up yet?"

"If I tell you will you rescind your rescission?"

Constance smirked. "I already know the answer. I can see it in those beady eyes of yours."

Violet snatched the cigarette from the woman, cursing the lack of ability to leave the grounds for what would be far from the last time. 'Although I wouldn't be old enough to buy my own off grounds, anyway.' she reasoned, choosing to smoke in the gazebo the last and fleeting residents of the murder home had finished before fleeing with their lives.

Why was Constance suddenly so invested in Tate again? It seemed like having Michael around to clean up after was keeping her busy enough to forget her damaged son. Violet had lost count of the schools Michael had been kicked out of. He'd be in prison before long, she was sure of it. They hadn't been able to pin the death of a nanny on him, but Violet was positive there was no robbery or break in, as Constance shrilly insisted. Police had been unable to find a criminal, but also couldn't track hard evidence.

Michael's reign of terror dwindled somewhat after the initial killing. He kept to harming animals and setting fires these days. Violet was uncomfortable every time she saw him. She was careful to keep herself out of his sight.

The door to the yard slammed. Violet thought she heard glass breaking.

"Tate! I am not through with you, young man!"

Violet watched Tate stalk across the yard and around the side of the house. He had gone to their brick wall, she was almost certain. That was the other thing about living so closely with the other ghosts. Their patterns were almost clockwork.

Constance stood in the yard for a moment, looking as if she were torn between tracking Tate down and running back to the relative safety of her own home. Violet knew the very last thing Constance wanted was to be trapped here herself with her own offspring. She shuddered at the thought. Death and a yard weren't enough to keep Constance away. If she was trapped here and Violet had to see her every single day- hell would undoubtedly be better. Violet wasn't positive this limbo wasn't some sort of hell as is.

It seemed Constance would be giving up. 'Typical.' Violet scoffed, inhaling the blueish smoke.

As she watched Constance leave, Violet wondered what had prompted this particular visit. Constance surely hadn't come without a reason. She ambled back to the side of the house, determined to seek answers from Tate yet again.

"Twice in the last two days. If there weren't underlying reasons, I'd probably be happy."

Violet plopped herself down on the far side of the wall, back against the column and legs outstretched. She snuffed out her cig and contemplated the butt. "You're incapable of being happy."

Tate looked offended. "I was happy," he insisted.

"While lying to me," she shot back.

"Did you come over here to pick a fight?" He challenged, staring at her intensely.

"No," she confessed easily, feeling embarrassed for allowing herself to be drawn into an argument. "I came to see what your lovely mother wanted from you."

Tate snorted, turning from her to face the exterior wall of the house. "The usual."

"Oh, accolades that devolved into insults, then?"

"More like threats." His voice was dark.

Violet's head snapped up. She flicked the butt into the yard, casually making sure Moira wasn't present to scold. "What kind of threats?"

What could Constance possibly threaten Tate with now? Paternity support? Violet would have chortled at her own inner joke, but Tate's response stopped her cold.

"She says that two-bit psychic bitch figured out a way to end the house's curse."

"Who, Billie Jean? That's good news, not a threat. We could stop playing Halloween every time a family crazy enough to move in swings by." Violet was almost relieved.

Every time a living family crossed the threshold she remembered her own initial walkthrough. What was it about the dark wood and oppressive quiet of this house that had taken her in so completely?

Violet eyed Tate, wondering if he would offer an explanation. He shifted uncomfortably. "Constance thinks it won't just end the curse. It would cleanse the house."

It took Violet a moment of considering this. "Cleanse as in…?"

Tate made a gesture that alluded to disappearance. "Poof. No more curse, no more ghosts. A fresh start, if you will."

"How is that possible? They've tried that a million times. They probably aren't the first to try."

Tate shrugged. "Some voodoo queen acquaintance, I don't fucking know."

"Are you scared?" Violet couldn't help but draw closer to Tate.

He glanced over at her. "I don't know." His shoulders sagged, as though in defeat. "Are you?"

Violet considered this for a moment. "I don't know, either. I guess I have a lot more to lose, right?"

Tate scoffed. "You're so selfish. I've got family here too, remember? And Nora is almost my family."

"That crazy bitch doesn't know you 50% of the time." Violet knew it was risky to point out any deficiency of Tate's childhood solace, but her shifting feelings about the revelation made her more bold.

"That doesn't matter. I love her, and I would miss her." Tate stood. "I've been around longer than you. I'm tired."

He disappeared, leaving Violet alone.


End file.
